


Knockout Dust

by Turwaithiel_Rainscent



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 10:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turwaithiel_Rainscent/pseuds/Turwaithiel_Rainscent
Summary: Nikolai Lavellan has some thoughts while making his knockout dust in his cabin in Haven.





	Knockout Dust

Nikolai hums idly to himself as he sits in his house in Haven in front of a large mortar and pestle. He wears gloves and a bandana around his nose and mouth as he adds dried Deathroot, Valerian root, a dash of Chamomile and Crystal Grace to the bowl of the mortar.

He was delighted that they were able to procure the tool for him, as he needed it to make his knockout powder. He had learned this specific recipe in his clan. He wore the mask and gloves because the powder would stain your hands grey, and, well, if you breathed it in, it would knock you out.

That was it’s purpose after all.

It was labor intensive to make, but it made battles much easier. Make someone sleep, then slip your dagger through their ribs. It was almost kinder like that, too.

He hummed a little louder hearing the nobles talking outside. It was cumbersome with so many people constantly about. Especially now with the influx of disbanded Templars.

He pounded and ground the herbs into a nice fine powder.

Varric had said there would be about an hour to kill. He lied and said he wanted a banquet. Yeah, maybe after the hole in the sky was closed. Before then? He could use his downtime for this, and for gathering herbs and such around Haven.

Not much grew around here, considering everything was covered in snow. He searched his bags for the little satchels he kept the powder in. One satchel in the pocket per dalliance in the field.

He took a wooden spoon and carefully began to transfer it to the small bags. He had made enough for about three. The scent was…well, musty, but it was ok. It wasn’t like it was perfume.

He tightly drew the drawstrings on the satchels and put them back in his pack. He then sighed, grabbing up a bucket. The small pond wasn’t far. He would gather up some water to wash his tools, and come right back.

He drew his hood, and, waiting for the lull of the nobles, went out and down the steps. Clear air, cold, but refreshing.

As he went down the road, he felt eyes on him but ignored them. Next time, he would probably just stealth around. What was that boy’s name…Cole? He should get him how to show him that disappearing trick that he does. It would come in useful if it could be taught.

He reached the water, finding a bit that wasn’t frozen over.

“Lonely feeling of other. People surround me, trapped, must get away. No one understands.”

He turned and saw Cole pulling down the brim of his large hat, avoiding eye contact. He crouched down and dunked the bucket in the cool water. “Hello, Cole.”

“Hello.” The blond boy looked into the water, and back to Nikolai. “You don’t have to feel ‘other’. You are not. You have friends.”

Nikolai sighed and nodded, setting the bucket on the ground. “I know…I just. I’m not used to being in a house, with shoes and people, weird food…war…so many humans.” He frowned.

“Not believing, lying, they wish it to be so. More for their benefit, a mask for the populace, religionless, beliefless underneath.” Cole wrung his hands as he talked, his voice just above a whisper.

“That’s right. This ‘Andrastianism’ that I tell them I have…It is just a big show.” He looks towards the car waterfall. “It all feels like a bunch of human nonsense.”

Cole doesn’t say anything, but nods. “Go to them. They worry about you. You don’t have to have such pain. They will ease it.”

Nikolai nodded, and smiled, “Thank you, Cole. You’ve helped me again.”

Cole nodded and disappeared. The elf had added that last but about helping because he sensed that that made the not happy. In truth, he had helped. He had helped get him out of his shell a bit. Perhaps he should relax just a little and let people get to know him. He picked up the bucket and started heading back to Haven. Clean up and then…

See what the war table has in store.


End file.
